


Interlude

by Makugen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makugen/pseuds/Makugen
Summary: A story about loss, depression, love and sex.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	1. Zero O'clock

**Author's Note:**

> HP and it's characters belongs to J.K. Rowling, legally. All the rest is for us readers and writers to grow and change

After the war, Hermione feels a bit lost.

She tries to go back to school, but every corner feels haunted by the ghosts of the people who died there. She is still having nightmares every day of the torture she went through, and she can't forget all the people she killed by her own wand. It was _war_ , and it was them or her or someone else that mattered, and she sometimes had to make the choice of ending someone's life.

But she is not a soldier. She wasn't raised to be one, she never wanted to be one, yet she was forced into the role by the world she was a part of. A world that wanted to reject her for simply being who she is.

A world that at some point was so dark she had no choice but to erase herself from her parents memories, only to find out later that it was too risky to try to reverse it. Orphaned by her own hands.

For two months, she tries to endure school. But almost every minute of it feels too hard, the anxiety is closing in on her from all sides and so - She runs. She's doing it for herself, for her mental health - Ron and Harry and everyone else that care about her continously tell her that, and that there's nothing shameful in not being able to be at Hogwarts. In needing time. 

But she knows. She knows that no matter how you word it, the simple truth is that she ran away from her own demons.

The moment she tells everyone she wants to leave school, Harry and Sirius tell her that Grimmauld Place is her home as well. They welcome her with open arms and comforting words.

She accepts their invitation. She doesn't have a home, not anymore, and she is grateful they are willing to welcome her into theirs. 

When she finally enters her new room, a huge sigh of relief goes through her lips and with it - all of her energy, or so it feels. 

Her first few weeks at Grimmauld Place are veiled in a deep fog. She barely has the energy to eat, let alone read or talk to anyone. She mostly just sleeps. 

After three weeks of that, the nightmares come back with a vengeance, and suddenly all she does is read. She reads every day until her eyes and body take away her choice and pull her into sleep. 

That lasts five weeks. 

On the sixth one, Sirius gives up on giving her space. 

At first he enters her room as Padfoot, and just spends a few hours of the daywith her. She lets him lay on the bed with her because his warmth is comforting and he shouldn't need to rest on the floor ever again. 12 years of that were more than enough. 

Then, after a week and a half of that, he starts forcing her to sit with him in the library. He doesn't try to talk to her, they just sit near to each other, each reading their own book. 

Sitting up is tiring, but every day she goes to sleep she feels more satisfied and relaxed. 

And then, they start to talk.


	2. Lie

Today, Hermione woke up angry. It was a rare thing for her to wake up feeling anything, let alone such a strong emotion. It was the first sign that her new routine was changing.   
She got out of bed and entered the shower, scrubbing fiercely in a poor attempt to wash the anger out. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work very well.

After getting dressed she entered the library and sat in the sit that unofficially became hers in the last few weeks. The armchair was quite a piece of furniture, in a bottle green color with garish gold ornaments, it probably looked lavish to the Blacks but in her opinion it was one of the ugliest things she have ever seen. The chair's twin was just a few centimeters away from hers, and on it sat Sirius, already reading a book. He didn't even raise his eyes when she sat down, because he understood her and knew she didn't want to be acknowledged. Or so she assumed. She grew to like his company, but until today she wasn't ready to talk. They barely exchanged a few words since she moved in, and the longer she lived there the less she said. She's pretty sure the last time she said anything to anyone was five days ago, when Harry was getting inside her room with a tray full of breakfast food, like he brought every other day. He couldn't see the slipper she accidentally left in his pass so she had to quickly tell him "watch out, there's a slipper in front of you" so he wouldn't trip. He thanked her and that was that. 

But today, today she was boiling. She had a nasty dream - she doesn't remember the details but she remembers the strong feelings of resentment and anger she felt in it. She remembers who she dreamt about.  
She had to talk. She had to let it out, because she feels like if she will let herself stew in her anger, the stew will _explode_ and by stew, she meant her mental health. The same mental health that wasn't very healthy right now anyway. 

So for the first time in quite a few weeks, she finally said something to Sirius again.

"I hate Albus Dumbledore" well, that was quite more blunt and to the point than she intended, but a start is a start. 

She saw from the periphery of her eye that he was startled by the sudden noise, and that after processing what she said he was trying to come up with a proper reply. She saved him the trouble by just diving right in what would become her first Passionate Monologue in quite some time.

"I know he was on our side in his own way. But we were all chess pieces to him, that's at least the conclusion I've come to last year, after thinking about it again and again for most of our "quest". He was a great wizard, but I'm not sure he was a great man. Let alone a good one. He sent us, three seventeen years old on a journey to find pieces of the soul of a mad man. The man who killed hundreds of people like me, like my parents. The man who killed Harry's parents. A man who was so powerful the only one he truly feared was The Great Albus Dumbledore. Yes, Harry had a prophecy about him. But where in that prophecy did it say he had to do it alone? Or with just Ron and me?"  
She felt so agitated she had to get up and walk around the room to let out a bit of her stress. Sirius was following her with his eyes but he made no move to talk. She was sure he knew she was nowhere near done with this speech.

"And didn't Harry deserve to know about his fate? To know he should properly say goodbye to us, or at least have the opportunity to decide if he wants to. And why did everything need to be in riddles? I read that book again and again for months!" she yelled. "He could've given us his notes, his ideas on where the horocrux may be! But no, instead we lived in a tent for months, knowing the fate of Wizarding Birtain laid on us, knowing that every day we don't destroy them is another day we'll most probably lose someone to this stupid, pointless war. He could've at least told us how to destroy them! But no, it was all on us to figure it out. How despicable."

She took a few deep shaky breaths, knowing that the next few things she'll say anger her the most and make her feel both useless and a little broken. "And I think... I think that what angers me most is what happened to you and Harry." Her throat closed up and tears welled in her eyes, and she didn't try to stop them. She knew it would be pointless. "Why was Harry placed in an abusive house? Dumbledore must've known he wouldn't have been treated well there! And okay, the blood protection. But why didn't he, for example, _hire someone_ to live with them, someone who could've taken care of Harry, who could've make sure he was treated right. And why, for fuck's sake _why_ didn't he check to see how Harry was doing? Just once. If he just checked on him **once** he would've known. He would have seen how he was treated. I... This theory makes me feel disgusted but I think, I think he did it on purpose. I think he needed Harry to be so starved for love that when he finally got to Hogwarts, it would become his safe haven. The thing he would fiercely want to protect;and by extension, he would feel the need to protect everyone in Wizarding Britain. And Dumbledore would look like a benevolent grandfather, instead of the man who abandoned him to abuse.

And then there's you. James' brother in all but blood. I get that people who were close to you, like Remus for example - were probably so blinded by grief and anger they forgot to stop and think, to slow down for a moment and wonder if it really was you, when until that day it was obvious to everyone you would've died for the Potter family without hesitation. But Dumbledore! He was supposed to know better! I... I get that he's human too. He was probably grieving as well, and blaming himself for what have happened. For failing to protect them. But he was your Leader! He was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. He had the power to make sure you got a fair trial. Gods forbid we did anything by law. I think, he knew that if you weren't accused of murders you didn't commit, you would've fought to keep Harry with you. And he didn't want that. Because of the blood protection, allegedly. But he could've talked with you! Maybe it would've taken time, because I'm sure that you were grieving and furious at that rat. Your temper would have understandably blinded you. But eventually you would have seen reason - and you could've been the one to live with him and those cruel people I refuse to call his family. But then Harry would be be loved and happy instead of the love starved kid our Trusted Leader needed him to be". 

  
By the end of the monologue, tears were indeed dripping down her cheeks, so she wiped them fiercely while catching her breath. After one deep sigh she sat back in her chair, placed her elbows on her knees, rested her head on her hands, and curled her fingers in her still slightly damp hair.   
"It probably sounds far-fetched. Or maybe it doesn't... at the least it sounds much more devious than we ever imagined he could be. Than I ever imagined he could be. But I think I'm right. I think that these are the only explanations that make sense." she closed her eyes and kneaded her sculp with her fingers, a calming gesture she picked up from her mother long ago. 

After a few moments of silence, Sirius spoke for the first time since she entered the room  
"I agree with you. I think I realized most of what you just said when you were in your fifth year, and I was trapped here with basically nothing to do but think myself in circles. but I immediately buried it deep down. I wasn't ready to face it. I don't know if everything you said is right regarding his reasons for acting as he did, but they do sound plausible..." he paused to take a moment to think on what to say next, or so it seemed to her when she turned to look at him. He was rubbing his finger back and forth on his bottom lip, a gesture she often saw him make when he was deep in thought. She waited him out patiently - it's not like she really knew what to say right now anyway. And she very much wanted to know his thoughts on this matter. 

  
"I'm not sure what we can do with all this anger. And believe me, I'm as angry as you are, maybe more because as you said, James was my brother - and Lily also became a sister to me. And don't even get me started on how Harry was raised, because I don't want to ruin this room in a fit of rage." he rubbed his eyes as if he wanted to rub hundreds of years old tiredness out of them and continued "So, how about changing to comfortable clothes we don't mind ruining and then we'll go up to the attic. It is still cluttered as hell and I think cleaning might be calming for us. I honestly don't think that either of us will be able to come to a conclusion on this, let alone a solution. I don't even know if we ever will. I made sure a few days ago to remove all dangerous items from there, so the only danger we will face is dust and interesting but harmless creatures."

She contemplated his offer. On the one hand, the monologue (rant) left her exhausted. But on the other one, this is the most alive she felt in a long while, and wasting it on taking a nap didn't only feel like a waste, but a few steps back in her progress. So she nodded, got up and brushed her hands on her pants and told him she would meet him in the attic after changing her clothes. 

Today was turning out to be eventful, and she hadn't even had breakfast yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the views and kudos, it means a lot to me. I hope this chapter is better or at least as good as the last one.
> 
> Oh, also, I feel like maybe I should explain this chapter a bit. I write this version of Hermione from personal experience. I have been struggling with depression for most of my life, and when I still lived with my mother I once every few weeks sat on the armchair across from the sofa she likes to sit on and had my very own Passionate Monologues(only mine were about my father, and humanity) so i very much ripped this off of my very own personal experience. I am used to feeling numb most of the time, but from time to time rage about Injustice will wake up my feelings again. I feel like Hermione is the kind of character who would work similar to me in this aspect.

**Author's Note:**

> I just gotta say that I'm pretty sure it's gonna be irrelevant that Fred doesn't die here, but I refuse to write a story where he dies, even if he doesn't show up.
> 
> Also, I don't know if it's noticeable but English is not my first language (and even if it was, grammar and I don't get along, no matter what language I use) So if you notice any mistakes, feel free to tell me, just do it politely and we're all good.


End file.
